


The Dam Drabbles

by race-jackson (Race_Jackson23)



Series: Sunshine Oneshots [2]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Cute, Darcy is the fandom bicycle and I love it, Domestic Fluff, Drabbles, F/M, Huddling For Warmth, Multi, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2018-12-26 19:58:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12065937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Race_Jackson23/pseuds/race-jackson
Summary: Just a series of drabbles and oneshots about Sam and Darcy from the Sunshine 'verse. Mostly cute with very little angst. Not necessary to read anything of the series to understand it.Order:1. Getting Lost2. Coming Home Late3. Patching Each Other Up4. IKEA5. After The Wedding6. IKEA pt. 2: The Proposal7. Fighting Over Blankets8. Cooking Attempts9. Childishalternatively known as: i write way too much angst here have something fluffy





	1. Getting Lost

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greendragon_templar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greendragon_templar/gifts).



“We’re lost.”

Tucking her hair behind her ear as she reviewed the creased map, Darcy protested, “We are not _lost_.”

Sam snorted.

“We’re lost,” he repeated. He folded his arms across his chest, an eyebrow raised questioningly. His lips pressed together tightly so as to suppress a grin. “I thought you said you grew up here?”

“I did,” she said. Chewing on the edge of her lip, she considered the stone apartments lining the cobbled street, which was deserted but for a few people hurrying past. Then her eyes darted back to the map. “Kind of. I … I lived here for a year when I was five... _But_ I could have sworn the Plaça Reial was two streets over! How did we end up here?”

“Because you have no idea how to read a map.” Sam rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “You insisted that we ‘ _go_ _unplugged_ ’, and now we’re lost without a phone and with a map written in Catalan.”

“I read Catalan!”

She examined the map again, squinting at the tiny writing along the side streets. Again, her teeth worried at her bottom lip.

Sam snickered. “I can tell.”

“You’re an ass,” huffed Darcy.


	2. Coming Home Late

“Thanks again, Sam, really,” said Steve. He clasped Sam on the shoulder before making his way back to the elevator. “I appreciate it.”

Sam nodded to him and turned to the door of his apartment. It opened into the darkened hallway with a click. Careful to avoid making sound, he dropped his gloves and goggles on top of the pile of shoes at the entrance and gently slung his go-bag to the floor. As starving as he was, he made his way down the hall towards his and Darcy’s bedroom, too exhausted to even think about eating.

Gently, he nudged open their bedroom door, hoping to avoid waking Darcy up. It became evident that he’d failed when she sat up and turned the bedside lamp on. The yellow lamplight made clear her tousled hair and stolen Air Force shirt. She rubbed at her eyes and looked up at him blearily.

“Sam?” she croaked.

“Hey baby doll, go back to sleep,” he whispered.

He shucked off his pants. Ordinarily, he’d wash up before crawling into bed after a mission, but he was so tired that he was afraid he’d fall asleep in the shower. And besides, changing the sheets wasn’t too much of a struggle, and the idea of snuggling up next to his Darcy was too enticing to refuse. He joined her under the covers and wrapped an arm around her torso.

“Missed you,” she murmured.

“Missed you too.”


	3. Patching Each Other Up

“Ouch, careful!”

Darcy rolled her eyes. Quite purposefully, she poked the alcohol swap at the cut on Sam’s brow, ignoring the gasp of indignation at the sting of it. She laid short butterfly strips over the cut and stepped back to admire her work.

“All done,” she declared. Her tone was clipped. “You should really get that checked out by medical. I’m a PA, not a doctor.”

Sam pouted at her.

“You were rough on purpose,” he accused. Checking out his reflection in the window, he winced and turned back to her. “They’re all wonky.”

“Well, excuse me for patching up your sorry ass with wonky strips!” she snapped. “I guess next time after you do something so stupid and thoughtless, I’ll just let medical deal with you.”

She stomped off.


	4. IKEA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Darcy visit IKEA.

It was a maze. Rows upon rows of bowls, lighting fixtures and furniture intertwined to form a labyrinth of cheap home improvements. Affordable rugs loomed ahead, their visible softness beckoning shoppers forward, and lights danced off the polished concrete floors.

“This was such a bad idea,” whispered Darcy.

Her eyes were the size of dinner plates as she looked down at her overfull trolley. A Stabekk mirror was slotted down the side. Pillows and throws rested at the bottom, and two packets of coat hangers and a couple of magazine files poked out the top. Table trays were perched precariously over the pillows.

“Such a bad idea,” she repeated.

Sam looked up from his phone, smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. With a _snick_ , he turned the phone off and slid it back into his pocket.  “You wanted to come,” he reminded her.

“Yeah,” she agreed, “but …”

“But what?”

With a moan, she told him, “I just wanted Finstilt bowls.”


	5. After The Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the wedding, Pepper watches a soft moment between Sam and Darcy.

The night had wound down. Most of the guests had left for afterparties soon after Steve and Tony had, and the ones that stayed were either those who had been entrusted with the organisation or too drunk to move. Music still played, albeit softly and much calmer than the thundering beats heard an hour earlier, but the catering and bar staff had packed themselves up and left.

Of those organisers who remained, Pepper Potts was tired but happy, and ready to go to bed. Her night had been spent corralling the wedding staff into their tight schedule and alternating with Rhodey and Darcy on calming Tony down, which was a task and a half on its own. Finally, the last of her tasks sorted, she made her goodbye rounds, making sure to profusely thank her team as she went. Rhodey gave her a hug and a kiss to the cheek, insisting that he’d oversee the last of the clean-up with Darcy.

“Speaking of,” said Pepper, looking around, “where is she? It’d be rude of me to leave without thanking her for tonight, she really went above and beyond.”

Rhodey nodded towards the dance floor. She turned.

Wrapped up and swaying in Sam’s arms, Darcy’s eyes were closed. Her mouth was hidden where it was pressed into his shoulder, but Pepper was certain that she was smiling. Not that big, friendly smile she granted everyone in the labs after a successful day, or the pained half-smile that formed whenever she was in the same room as Barnes – no, Pepper knew she had that enchanted look upon her face, the one where she look as though Sam had told her he loved her for the first time.

Sam was no better. He had his nose buried in her hair. A twinkle played in his eyes and along the curve of his mouth, and he was murmuring something under his breath that Pepper couldn’t hear.

They looked as if they were the only ones in the world.

Grinning at Pepper, Rhodey told her conspiratorially, “It’s probably more rude to interrupt her, doncha think?”

Pepper smiled softly.

“Of course,” she said.

She bid Rhodey a final goodnight, and left for the guest rooms, too tired to get back to her apartment. And for the rest of the night, _Your Song_ was stuck in her head.


	6. IKEA pt. 2: The Proposal

Darcy’s lips were pressed into a tight line. Her cheek twitched, nostrils flaring slightly, and her glare deepened. Unflinching, Sam met her gaze head on with a scowl of his own, shoulders squared as if he were preparing to march into battle. He braced himself as Darcy opened her mouth.

“Are you a fucking moron? _This_ piece goes there, not _that_ one!”

“That’s not what the instructions say!” hissed Sam, shoving the instructions into Darcy’s face. “Look-look-look-look-look! ‘Part D attaches to Part E’. That’s hardly ‘Part C attaches to Part E’. Who’s the fucking moron now?”

“I will end you,” Darcy hissed back. She poked a piece of fibreboard at him, gaze deadly serious. “Don’t think I’m joking, I will do it and ask Tony to help me hide the body. He loves me, he’d do it.”

They glared at each other, neither willing to break first. Then–

“God I love you,” breathed Sam. Darcy smirked, her dark lips contrasting against bright white teeth. “No, seriously. You’re insane and you use up all the hot water and you drink shit coffee, but I fucking love you.”

She rolled her eyes, but squeaked as grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close. The fibreboard clattered to the floor as his lips found hers. He laughed into her mouth at her surprise, curling his hands in the fabric of her shirt.

“I love you,” he told her, “you’re it, for me.”

With a shaky breath, she replied, “You’re it for me too.”

Sam nodded slightly.

“Marry me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave kudos or a comment! Also, please go read Of Man and Machine :)


	7. Fighting Over Blankets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's really cold.

“I know someone needed to be here,” moaned Darcy, “but I don’t know how _we_ got stuck with it.”

She shivered bodily, tugging at the blankets with a whimper. Suddenly exposed to the chill of the uninsulated cabin, Sam swore loudly. He grabbed at the blanket edges, pulling them back so that they settled over him as well as Darcy, who made a soft sound of protest and tried tugging them back. Fortunately for Sam’s freezing ass, she was too tired to make more than a token effort.

“I need them more,” she whinged.

He snorted. “You’re a super soldier,” he said, “I’m a just measly, non-enhanced soldier currently _freezing his ass off_ because you’ve _already_ claimed the extra blankets. You can’t get these too.”

Pouting, she half-heartedly tugged at the sheets again but gave up. “Please?” she whimpered.

Sam raised an eyebrow, daring her to try to take the blankets again. Her pout deepened, the crease between her brows furrowing as she pinned him with a falsely-teary gaze. Sam’s eyebrow tracked even further upwards his forehead.

“No,” he hissed. “You freeze, we just defrost you and you’re up and about the next day. I freeze, I’m dead.”

“Cold,” she whimpered pathetically.

“Then get over here and hug me,” Sam replied evenly, eyebrow almost lost to his hairline. “Sharing body warmth is the easiest way to keep warm.”

She shook her head, whining, “But you have cold feet.”

“I wouldn’t have cold feet _if you let me have some of the blankets_ ,” he whispered. “If you let me have some of the blankets, I’d have _warm feet_ and this wouldn’t be an _issue_.”

A keening sound came from the lump of blankets and tangled hair, but she scooted over, throwing the extra blankets over Sam’s frame and burrowing into his side with a muttered quip about how cold he was. The extra blankets plus the sleepy super soldier made for a decent body heater, and Sam relaxed into her, sighing contentedly. She was less enthused but her grumbling subsided after a few minutes.

“Steve’s a dick,” she complained suddenly.

Sam grinned and agreed. “He really is.”

After that, it was easy to drift away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave kudos, or even a comment, to let me know if you liked it!


	8. Cooking Attempts

Upon entering the kitchen one night after a long day corralling Tony, Darcy’s nose was assaulted by something completely feral. She gagged and whirled out of the kitchen, a loud keening sound ripping itself from her throat as she stumbled into the hallway.

“What the fuck was that?” she screeched.

Voice muffled through the wall, Sam shouted back, “Stop being overdramatic, it’s not that bad!”

“It is so that bad!” she yelled. “It is worse than bad! Its demonic!”

Sam slouched into the hallway, wiping his hands on the apron he was wearing. To Darcy’s surprise (and delight), he didn’t have a shirt on under it, and from where she stood, she was pretty sure he was only wearing black boxer briefs. That, and the grumpy look on his face, had her biting her lip to contain her giggles, though the heat of her face and the slight twitch to his eyebrows told her that she’d probably been caught out.

“It’s not that bad,” he repeated, pecking her on the cheek.

She wrinkled her nose in response.

“I’ve met you mother,” she said. “Her cooking is a godsend. How is it that her talent has completely skipped you? It’s impossible, she’s _that_ good.”

“Haha, very funny,” he said drily. He paused, glancing back to the kitchen before sighing. “Take out?”

“Read my mind. I’ve got that Chinese place on speed dial.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave kudos or a comment!


	9. Childish

“Does it ever hit you,” mused Sam, tapping his spoon against his chin, “that we save the world on a regular basis but also frequently eat cereal for dinner because effort?”

Munching through a mouthful of Frosted Flakes, Darcy shrugged. Wiping away a dribble of milk from her chin, she reached for her glass of water and took a long sip before placing it down on the counter and turning to her fiancé. He was watching her with a raised eyebrow, the curl of his lip betraying his amusement.

“I kinda figure we should be let off the hook on that one,” she reasoned. She frowned when her tongue found a piece of Flake near her left wisdom teeth. “After all,” she said, shovelling another spoonful into her mouth, “we put so much effort into the world-saving that no one should blame us for not being bothered to cook when we get home. Hell, most people can’t be bothered and _they_ don’t have the excuse of world-saving.”

“But don’t you think it’s a little childish?” he pressed.

Darcy snorted, “Childish? How are we childish? What, because we eat cereal for dinner?”

“And breakfast, and lunch, and snacks,” he teased. “Not to mention the early Saturday cartoons or blanket forts.”

Darcy laughed, and Sam felt his chest growing warm at the sound.

“Oh come on!” she protested, still laughing. She poked his shoulder with her spoon. “Let me live! I’ll have you know that morning cartoons and blanket forts are something I was introduced to as a young teenager, _not_ as a child. And besides, you do it too, and your childhood was as wholesome, all-American as it gets, you literally have no excuse!”

Sam grinned. “I still think you’re childish,” he quipped.

She grinned back in response, and tipped the remainder of her cereal over his head. Through his spluttering, Darcy cackled like a witch.

“Who’s laughing now, huh?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank toaster_waffle for their comment on this, I really do appreciate it. I'm pretty sure the sound I made was so inhuman that I scared my dog lmao. I'm at 250 kudos for the Sunshine 'verse (EEEEEEEEEP!!) so thanks to anyone who has liked, bookmarked or commented on the series as a whole.  
> Also like to note that I'll accept prompts and stuff if you send it through, as long as it fits where I'm going with the series. Speaking of, I moved the oneshots and drabbles to their own series because they were crowding up the main one, so feel free to check that one out, it's on my profile.  
> Anyway, let me know if you liked by leaving kudos or a comment. Thank!


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